


Flirting

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 08:26:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6110754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles splutters when Melissa winks at him, trying his hardest not to flail, “You can’t just wink at me like that,” he whines, “You’re instilling all this false hope in me just so that you can crush it later, aren’t you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flirting

Scott glances up from his paper and watches Stiles for a moment, smug smirk tugging the corner of his mouth, waiting for his reaction when there’s the sound of the car door shutting from downstairs.

Stiles’s head perks up from his Chemistry paper as well and he looks towards Scott’s door, suddenly really anxious, “Your mom’s home,” he points out the obvious.

“No kidding,” Scott responds, chuckling and then motioning with his eyes towards his door, “She’s also got groceries, if you… you know, wanna give her a hand.”

“I’m on it,” Stiles says at once and scrambles off Scott’s bed, skidding at the door and running down the stairs. Throwing the front door open, he bolts outside and stops at the trunk, leaning on it as he smiles at Melissa, “What’s up, good lookin’? Need some help?” he asks, panting and not coming off nearly as sexy as he’d hoped.

Melissa looks up from the passenger’s side as she smiles at Stiles and then moves to him, patting him on the chest, “Sure, as long as you plan on taking in the water,” she motions back to the door then and winks at him, walking around the back to unlock the trunk.

Stiles stares at Melissa in confusion, eyes wide as he glances between her and the house. Normally when he hits on her, there’s an exasperated sigh of some sort, or eye rolling, or an annoyed ‘ _Stiles_ ’, so this is new territory for him. He lets up off of the trunk and nods, because he can work with this, “I’ll take it all in if you want me to,” he offers, “You could just… you know, go ahead and go in, put up those pretty feet of yours,” he lays it on thick.

Melissa stops and sets the groceries in her hands back down as she puts her palms on her hips and stares at Stiles, gaze dropping as she looks him over and then she nods, “Okay,” she leans in then, lowering her voice in warning, “Don’t drop anything.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stiles beams, watching Melissa curiously. Sometimes she obviously gets annoyed with him, and then sometimes he thinks she takes advantage of his crush on her, but he’ll take it, even if she’s just fucking with him.

“Close up the car and lock it when you’re done,” Melissa says, taking up Stiles’s hand, turning it over, and putting the keys in it before walking past him, “Thank you, Stiles.”

Stiles swallows and nods fervently, “No-no problem,” he breathes out, looking back to watch her for a moment. He can’t **not** watch her walk away, she literally has the nicest ass he’s ever seen.

“Groceries,” Melissa says, not bothering to look back as she smiles to herself, “Groceries, first.”

“First?” Stiles’s voice cracks in confusion, brows narrowing.

He doesn’t know what she means, but he pries his eyes away and loads the bags of groceries up on his arms. He’ll get them all in on one try or die trying. His arms burn by the time he gets them into the kitchen, but when he sits everything down, he has to go right back out again to grab the case of water for her.

Setting it down on the driveway for a moment, Stiles locks the car up and grabs it again, trying to jog back into the house, but it’s so heavy he ends up doing a crooked limp thing.

“Okay, that’s everything,” Stiles tells Melissa, “You want me to put it all away for you?” he asks without even hesitating.

Melissa turns from the counter and shakes her head, “That’s fine, Stiles, thank you,” she says as she motions to the side by the refrigerator, “Just leave the water there.”

Stiles sits the case of water down where she tells him to, then leans against the counter next to her, “You look really nice today,” he tells her, then corrects himself, “I mean, not that you don’t usually, because you do. But today-it’s just,” he lets out a heavy breath, “You’re gorgeous.”

Melissa smiles at the compliment and turns to take up one of the bags, sifting through it, “You’re not so bad yourself,” she says as she glances at him, “Thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone,” Stiles says instinctively, then stops and balks a little, “Wait… what?” he asks, “Can you just… rewind a little bit and say that first part again?”

“I said ‘you’re not so bad yourself’,” Melissa repeats as she turns to look at Stiles properly, looking him over once more.

“Oh, okay, I get it,” Stiles nods, chuckling as he scratches the back of his neck, “You’re messing with me.”

Melissa lifts her brows, smiling wider as she stares at him and she puts her hands on her hips, “Oh, that’s what I’m doing,” she says teasingly, and then nods, “That must be it.”

“Wha-” Stiles huffs, even more confused now, because she’s never really messed with him like this before, “You want me to stop hitting on you,” he concludes, but he’s not really sure. She’s being very confusing right now.

“That **must** be why I’m flirting back,” Melissa says and watches him, the emotions flitting across his face, and she finds it endearing that he genuinely isn’t sure how to proceed with her.

“But you’re not actually flirting with me, right?” Stiles asks rhetorically, laughing nervously, “Because you wouldn’t actually be interested in me, a young nubile teenager, who happens to be your son’s best friend.”

Melissa blinks at his observations and she nods again, “Okay, if you say so,” she winks at him then and turns back to her groceries, “You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

Stiles splutters when Melissa winks at him, trying his hardest not to flail, “You can’t just wink at me like that,” he whines, “You’re instilling all this false hope in me just so that you can crush it later, aren’t you?” he starts nodding to himself.

Melissa smiles wider, letting him dig himself down into his conclusions, “I guess there’s no reason for me to answer you, is there? You seem confident in what you’ve decided,” she turns to put the bag of grapes in the fridge, as well as a couple of blocks of cheese, then leans against the door of the fridge, “You should become a detective.”

Stiles’s mouth drops open at how sarcastic she’s being with him, “You’re being so mean to me right now,” he complains, but he’s only complaining because he doesn’t know how to handle the way she’s acting.

“I am,” Melissa confirms, “I’m being mean,” she closes the fridge door and moves back to the groceries, “But you’re the one that keeps telling me what I’m doing. So… how else do you expect me to respond?”

Stiles lets out a frustrated sound, wincing at how pathetic he sounds, “I’m…” he flails then, “I’m just gonna go finish my Chem paper.”

“You should do that,” Melissa agrees, wetting her lips as she pulls the plastic bag off of the milk and moves to put it in the fridge.

Stiles stares at Melissa for a moment longer, then turns like he’s leaving the kitchen, but then he turns back around, glancing at her again before doing a full circle to actually leave the kitchen this time. The first thing he does when he gets back into Scott’s room is complain.

“Your mom’s a bully. A hot bully.”

“A bully?” Scott asks curiously, looking up from his paper, “For… doing what?”

"She was teasing me," Stiles says pitifully, "Normally she just tells me to leave her alone, but no, not today. Today must be ' _Let’s Mess With Stiles_ ' day."

“Messing with you… how exactly?”

"She was flirting back," Stiles tells Scott simply, "And being really sarcastic."

Scott blinks in surprise, “My mom was flirting with you..?”

"It's not like she was being serious, Scott, that's the real problem here."

“My mom doesn’t really mess around like that, dude,” Scott responds, genuinely surprised, “Like my mom doesn’t even jokingly flirt with the people in the hospital.”

"Nope, I'm not buying it," Stiles shakes his head and sits down in Scott's computer chair.

Scott blinks at Stiles and then sits up, “Dude, you’ve known my mom for **years**. Name the last time you heard her flirt with someone, anyone. And like… you’ve been flirting with her for like three years.”

"Exactly, so why would she start flirting back now?" Stiles asks, trying to make a point.

Scott stills, lips pursing for a moment before he groans, “Oh no.”

"Oh no what?" Stiles shakes his head in confusion.

Scott looks at Stiles, “I think my mom wants to bone my best friend,” he groans and flops onto his stomach, “Uuuugh.”

"What?" Stiles shakes his head again, what Scott's saying isn't computing.

“Stiles,” Scott stops and turns to look at his friend seriously now, “You remember that dick my mom dated when we were like… twelve? It was for like a couple months.”

"Yeah, so? What's that have to do with this?"

Scott sighs and stares at him, “That’s the last time my mom dated. Like… the last time she even **tried** to date. She hasn’t really flirted with anyone since then.”

"So... you're saying she's desperate?" Stiles questions, still not entirely following Scott's line of thought.

“I’m saying that she doesn’t do this ever,” Scott responds, “I dunno _what_ she is, but she’s flirting with you, I don’t think she’s kidding. That’s not how my mom jokes. Normally it’s like ‘don’t you have school work to do?’.”

"Okay, so, hypothetically speaking," Stiles tilts his head, " **If** your mom like... was legit flirting with me, do I have your permission to get all up in that?"

Scott smiles slowly and then narrows his eyes, trying to remain serious, “That depends,” he trails, and then elaborates, “What if she just wants something nice? Would you be okay with that?”

"What do you mean by something nice?" Stiles asks, "Because dude, I have offered to rub that woman's feet more times than I can count."

“Okay, what if she wanted something long term?”

"Scotty, we're about to turn eighteen, do you really think your mom wants something long term with someone young enough to be her son?"

Scott shrugs, “I don’t really care, as long as she’s happy,” he says sincerely.

"I can do that," Stiles says confidently, "I can make her happy... if she wants me to."

“Just make sure, okay?” Scott responds, pressing his lips together for a moment, “Make sure it’s what she wants, too. Otherwise, you totally have my permission.”

"Yeah, totally," Stiles reassures his best friend, "I will proceed with **so** much caution."

Scott laughs, leaning over and nudging Stiles, “Not _too_ much caution, I hope.”

"Well, I mean... at least until I know what she wants, whether it's the D, or, you know, the D on tap for the foreseeable future."

“Oh my god,” Scott groans, “I so don’t need to hear that worded that way when in context with my mom.”

"Get used to it, Scotty," Stiles chuckles, "You said it yourself, your mom totally wants me."

Scott sighs and nods, “I might be able to talk to her about that for you, dude.”

"You'd do that for me?" Stiles asks softly, overwhelmed with all the bro-love he feels for Scott.

“I could at least ask to see if she’s interested,” Scott responds, “And maybe let her know that it’s cool with me.”

"You're the best," Stiles makes a sincere pouty face and gets up, tackle glomping Scott to the bed.

* * *

There really is no way to prepare yourself for a conversation with your parent, regarding whether or not they want to sleep with your best friend, so Scott figures the best way is to just blurt it out.

"Do you wanna have sex with Stiles?" he asks just as his mom takes a bite of her spaghetti.

Melissa nearly chokes, her eyes widening as she hits her chest with the top of her fist and coughs. She sets down her fork and wipes her mouth, looking up to her son, “Scott,” she says, cheeks heating.

"What?" Scott shrugs and takes a bite of his garlic bread, "He said you flirted with him. Were you just messing with him, or are you interested?"

“I…” Melissa frowns, taking a sip of her wine and looking down to her plate, “I was… I **am** … interested.”

"I thought so," Scott admits, " I know you never flirt with anyone, I tried telling him that. He thinks you were messing with him."

“I was,” Melissa admits, smiling slightly, “To an extent. But I was also serious,” she wets her lips, trying to clean the grease off of them, “I wanted to try it first, see how it felt - at least before I talked to you about it.”

"And?" Scott gauges, smiling at the look on his mom's face, "How did it feel?"

Melissa clears her throat, “It was nice,” she says, smiling even more, “I haven’t felt like that in… god, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that before. Even with your father, in the beginning.”

"So what're you gonna do now?" Scott questions her, genuinely curious, "Because Stiles is... I'm pretty sure he still doesn't believe you were actually flirting with him."

“I’m not in any hurry,” Melissa responds and shrugs, “If he’s interested, he’s interested, and eventually he’ll do something about it. But I can wait.”

"You're gonna wait for him to sack up?" Scott asks flatly.

Melissa lifts her brows and chuckles, “Well I might become more forward,” she says and blushes, “If he tries to flirt again. I like seeing him get flustered.”

"That's brutal," Scott chuckles in amusement, "You know he makes a fool of himself when he gets like that, right? He's spazzy."

"I think it's sweet," Melissa responds, picking back up her fork, "I like getting him like that without even trying."

"He likes you a lot, it doesn't take much," Scott tells her, "I remember last summer, you smiled at him and he spent the next three weeks talking about it."

Melissa chuckles, "And... I mean, are you okay with this? You seem pretty calm about it."

"I just want you to be happy, mom," Scott grins genuinely at his mother, shrugging, "If you think he might make you happy, then go for it."

"I'm willing to give it a try," Melissa responds softly, expression sobering, "I like him."

"He likes you, too," Scott assures her again, "If anyone can attest to that, it's definitely me."

Melissa lifts a brow and decides to press, "Does he talk about me a lot?"

"All the time," Scott confirms, " _Scott, your mom smiled at me. Scott, she looks so good today. Scott, you should clean your room more often so your mom doesn't have to. She works a full time job, it's the least you can do_ ," he imitates Stiles.

Melissa laughs, covering her mouth as she chews, "Sounds to me like you should listen to him."

"Mom," Scott sighs pitifully.

"You could stand to clean your room more," Melissa responds, "But he... he seems... sincere."

"He can be, yeah," Scott nods, "He's a goofy guy, but his heart is generally in the right place."

Melissa looks back up at her son again, "It's different than anything I've had before," she admits, sighing, "It's strange, But it doesn't bother me; I just... he just makes me feel good about myself, which is more than I've ever been able to say about Raf."

"You'd probably **really** feel good about yourself if you heard half the things he doesn't have the nerve to say to your face."

Melissa blushes, "Do I even want to ask?"

"He **really** likes your lavender scrubs," Scott grumbles under his breath, "And the way your hair looks after you get out of the shower."

Melissa stares at Scott, "He said that?" she reaches up to touch her hair mindlessly.

"Yep," Scott responds slowly, making a face, "Says it looks soft and shiny, and... the reason he likes staying over so much is because um-" he sighs, "He says, and I quote ' _she is the most adorable thing I've ever seen when she first wakes up, Scott_ '."

"Oh my god," Melissa says, cheeks flushing, "I'm never gonna be able to think of him staying over for the night without thinking about that and being self conscious."

"I wouldn't be if I were you, he seems to like the whole," Scott motions to her, "Disheveled, messy hair, crazy grumpy look."

"Oh shush you," Melissa says, swatting at him from across the table.

Scott laughs weakly and pulls back from her, "No, but seriously, he says so many good things about you. I couldn't tell you everything if I tried."

"Wish he'd have the nerve to tell me to my face, but I get it," Melissa says, smiling sadly.

"Pretty sure he doesn't because he feels like he already bugs you with the flirting, I think he thinks you wouldn't wanna hear it."

"I would," Melissa says lowly, "And you're sure this doesn't bother you?"

"I'm sure," Scott insist, "I just don't want the details," he explains, chuckling, "You know?"

"No, I know," Melissa says and laughs, "We'll keep it quiet... I didn't mean it like that."

"Mom," Scott groans miserably and shakes his head, "I so didn't need that visual."

Melissa gapes, "Please, don't even think about that."

"You said it!" Scott squawks in his defense.

"I didn't mean it like that," Melissa repeats, feeling the blush spread, her hands shaking, so she sets them in her lap, "Honestly I don't think about that."

"Well, he _does_ ," Scott says in regards to Stiles, "So be prepared."

Melissa's eyes widen, "I... I could be prepared for that-we need to stop talking about this."

"Yeah," Scott agrees and stands up from the table, just as uncomfortable as she is, "I'm going upstairs to finish my homework."

“That’s probably for the best,” Melissa responds and stuffs more noodles in her mouth so she doesn’t have to say anything else.

"Yep," Scott bends down to kiss her on the cheek before darting out of the kitchen, "Love you."

* * *

“You **owe** me,” Scott says as he takes the seat across from Stiles in the lunch room the next morning, setting his tray down and then stuffing his backpack on the seat beside him, “I talked to mom for you, and I might just be scarred for life, dude.”

"Oh come on," Stiles rolls his eyes, "It couldn't have been _that_ bad. What'd she say?"

Scott opens his bowl of cereal, pouring his milk over it once he gets the small carton open, “Well, she wasn’t just messing with you. She was really flirting.”

"No way," Stiles shakes his head, scoffing, then immediately becoming serious as he leans across the table, "Seriously? She wants me?"

“Please don’t say it like that,” Scott groans and sighs, “But yeah, she does. She said… she said she likes the way you make her feel.”

Stiles grins dopily and puffs his chest out a little, "I make her feel good?" he asks wistfully.

“That’s what she said, yeah,” Scott confirms, smiling slightly at the look on his friend’s face and he takes a spoonful of his cereal, chewing as he talks, “She said… now don’t let this go to your head, dude. But she said you make her feel ‘ _good about myself_ ’, and that even uh… even my dad never made her feel like that.”

"T-that's..." Stiles flails, looking around wildly, "I need to go. I have to leave. Does she like flowers, Scotty?" he almost trips as he tries to get up from the table.

Scott’s eyes widen in surprise and he cranes his neck, looking at Stiles and how he’s acting, “Uh…” he tilts his head, “T-tulips?”

Stiles drops his bag, then picks it up again as he straightens his clothes, "Tulips, got it," he nods vigorously, "Cover for me if Harris asks where I'm at, yeah?"

Scott chuckles nervously, “What am I supposed to say to him?”

"Tell him..." Stiles speaks with his hands, "Uh... tell him I got sick, make something up. I've got wooing to do."

“Wooing?” Scott asks, grinning widely, “You’re gonna woo my mom?”

"She deserves it," Stiles says, shifting from foot to foot impatiently, "Can I go now?"

“Go, dude,” Scott motions, lifting a hand, “I wouldn’t even dream of stopping you.”

"Alright, I'm out," Stiles says and takes off, quite literally running out of the cafeteria. He doesn't have the slightest clue what he's going to do, and it probably won't be amazing, but he's going to at least try.

* * *

After he picks up tulips from the florist, he swings by the hospital to see if she's there first. She's not, so he changes course to Scott's house.

Stiles feels like he looks like a mess, all frazzled with excitement as he steps up onto the porch, but he doesn't care. Reaching out, he actually rings the doorbell for once and hides the flowers behind his back.

Melissa frowns as she looks up from the floor and turns around, glancing out the door of the kitchen, “Coming,” she says, groaning when she stands up and she takes off her gloves, setting everything on the table and walking out into the foyer, answering the door as she reaches up to push her bangs out of her face.

She stops when she sees Stiles and she glances around, “Don’t… you have school today?”

"I have all my credits, I'll still be able to graduate if I miss one day of school," Stiles smiles, pulling the tulips out from behind his back to offer them to her.

Melissa starts to respond and then she stops, gaze dropping down to the flowers and her eyes widen slightly, “Tulips…” she says and then she smiles, reaching out to take them as she looks at him, then leans in to smell them. “Nice touch,” she responds as she leans slightly against the door frame, “Very smooth.”

"I do what I can," Stiles shrugs flippantly and puts his hands in his pockets, "You gonna invite me in, beautiful?"

Melissa holds the flowers to her chest as she glances back, then looks at Stiles, “You wanna come in?” she asks, moving out of the way for him.

"Yeah," Stiles smiles and maybe intentionally sidesteps a little close to her as he enters the house, "I do," he says, glancing at her mouth before moving in the rest of the way.

“I was just cleaning,” Melissa says as she turns around to close the door behind them, stopping long enough to fan herself before walking into the kitchen to get a vase for the flowers.

"Anything I can help you with?" Stiles asks and follows her, stopping at the kitchen door to watch her.

“I’m almost finished with the floor,” Melissa turns and motions to his feet, “Don’t come in here,” she says and smiles slightly, “But after that I could take a break.”

"I can wait," Stiles says, he can be patient for her.

Melissa finishes putting the flowers in one of her vases and turns, walking back to him, “Why don’t you go find a good place for these in the livingroom?” she says and motions back behind Stiles, “I’ll be in there once I finish up in here.”

"You got it, babe," Stiles smirks and takes the flowers, acting a lot more casual and charismatic than he actually is. He keeps it together until he reaches the living room, at which point he sets the vase down and starts flailing like a wild man, barely able to contain his excitement.

Melissa turns back to her gloves and the sponge she tossed aside, putting the gloves back on and finishing the kitchen floor as fast as she can. She still lingers in there, though, cleaning a few other things before willing herself to join Stiles.

She steps into the living room, smiling when she sees him and moving to take a seat on the couch, "So, I take it you and Scott talked this morning."

"Well, it was more like he spoke at me, I freaked out and then left school to come here, but yeah," Stiles nods.

“Couldn’t wait to give me flowers?” Melissa asks, watching him as she reaches out to touch the tulips again.

"I just didn't wanna show up empty-handed," Stiles admits and sits down on the other end of the couch.

Melissa lifts her brows, “So you didn’t take off from school to bring me flowers,” she says, looking at them, “Why else did you come over?”

Stiles swallows nervously, "This is you messing with me again, huh?" he asks, "Okay, yeah, I might have left school just so I could bring you flowers."

“Any _other_ reason?”

"T-to... see you?" Stiles guesses, fidgeting with his fingers.

Melissa glances down at Stiles’s hands and then reaches out to take one, shaking her head slightly, “You don’t have to be so fidgety all the time,” she says as she shifts closer to him.

"I-I-I can't help it," Stiles's heart starts racing and he looks down at where she took his hand, "It's worse when I'm nervous."

“Nervous?” Melissa asks, “Because of this? Because of me?”

"Yeah, because of you, are you kidding?" Stiles wets his lips, "But it's a good kind of nervous."

Melissa nods slightly, staring at him, trying to be careful not to push him into something he might not be ready for, “This doesn’t have to be more than what it is, Stiles.”

"And what, exactly, is it?" Stiles asks, trying not to let what she said bother him.

“So far?” Melissa asks, but then continues, “You’ve only bought me flowers. If you don’t want more than that, it’s okay.”

"I wanna do more than give you flowers."

Melissa stares at him, brushing her thumb over his hand, “So do I, but I’m letting you know… I… I don’t wanna pressure you into this and make you feel nervous.”

"You... pressuring me?" Stiles chuckles a little, "I'm the one who's been hitting on you for three years."

“I’m well aware of that,” Melissa responds, “But boys flirt all the time, it doesn’t mean they always think about much beyond that.”

"So maybe I haven't thought about this, that's only because I never expected something like this to happen," Stiles admits, "I'm... down for whatever. Whatever you want."

Melissa shakes her head slightly, “I don’t think so,” she says and chuckles, “I’m more comfortable working at your pace than I am at my own.”

"I probably should've had a better game plan before I came over here," Stiles says then, because now that the pressure is being put on him, he doesn't know what to do. He seriously got ahead of himself.

“You’re so nervous,” Melissa observes, moving closer now, taking the seat directly beside him and reaching out to brush her hand through the back of his hair, “You don’t have to be so nervous with me… no one else ever is.”

"Mm," Stiles hums and his shoulders slump, head tilting subtly, "I can't help it, I'm trying not to be."

Melissa wets her lips and pulls her hand back, “I should get back to cleaning,” she says softly, “Once it gets to noon, cleaning floors becomes… exhausting.”

Stiles frowns to himself, because when Melissa would rather clean floors than hang out with him, he knows he messed up, likely blew his chance entirely. Nodding weakly, he stands up from the couch, "I should probably get back to school, anyway."

Melissa stands up from the couch as well, reaching out to touch Stiles’s cheek and turning to look him in the eyes, “Thank you for the tulips,” she says softly, brushing his cheek with her thumb and then leaning in to kiss him. It isn’t directly on the lips, but it’s just on the corner, almost enough, but not too much to feel guilty about.

"You're welcome," Stiles breathes out in surprise, wishing that he would've moved his head a little at the last moment. He's very confused, doesn't really know what Melissa wants at this point. It's even more difficult to figure out because the kiss is so chaste, he's seen her give Scott similar ones.

"Have fun with the... floor scrubbing... and stuff," he adds awkwardly.

“So much fun,” Melissa responds, taking her hand back and staring at him for a moment, “I can’t begin to explain how **fun** it is to clean floors,” she says as she turns to leave the living room, “I should have a floor-cleaning party…”

"I'd attend," Stiles says, unable to keep his gaze from drifting down to her ass, "If it means seeing you on your knees."

Melissa laughs, glancing back at him, “Where was that cock-iness a minute ago?”

"Ha," Stiles snorts and blushes at the pun, hearing her say 'cock' shouldn't be as hot as it is, "Funny. Very cute," he follows her out into the foyer.

“I know,” Melissa responds, stopping at the door to the kitchen, “I’m even cuter on my hands and knees,” she says and then her cheeks heat, “I should’ve been a comedian.”

"You should show me some time," Stiles tells her somewhat suggestively, she seems more receptive to him when he's not a bumbling mess of nerves, "I'll be the judge."

Melissa lifts her brows, "What, my stand-up act, or me... on my hands and knees?"

"I dunno, I'd kinda like to see both," Stiles admits, pressing his lips together in a small grin.

Melissa glances down to Stiles's mouth, "Maybe I will."

"I'm looking forward to it," Stiles responds, "I might even want an encore."

“Well, who knew,” Melissa says lowly, staring back up at him, “Sarcastic, cute, **and** cheesy,” she turns from him, moving back into the kitchen to get her gloves.

"You think I'm cute?" Stiles's voice cracks, but he doesn't follow after her.

"Very," Melissa confirms, bringing her cleaning supplies to the door, "Very cute, I do."

"Not... handsome... or... you know, sexy?" Stiles asks and rolls on the balls of his feet, "Just-just cute?"

"When you get to my point in life," Melissa starts, smiling at him, "They all mean the same thing when talking about a guy." 

"Your point in life?" Stiles lifts his brows at her, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"When you stop caring about the titles," Melissa says, "Cute can be sexy, and why bother trying to separate the two?"

"So you don't care about titles?" Stiles asks her then, ambling over to the kitchen door.

"Not really," Melissa responds, gaze following him, "I've been them all."

"All the good ones, maybe," Stiles agrees, stepping close to her.

Melissa shakes her head, "No, I've been the bad ones, too, trust me."

"I should get going," Stiles says, reaching up to touch one of her curls, gently twisting it around his finger before leaning in to kiss her on the mouth. The chaste ass little peck just isn’t going to cut it for him.

Melissa gasps, one hand reaching up to cup Stiles's cheek. Her heels lift off the ground to try and kiss him back properly.

Stiles’s hand presses into Melissa’s hair, cradling the back of her head and pulling her into it. He tries not to deepen it too much, because he knows that if he does he won’t want to pull away. Sighing, he pulls back, thumb brushing against her jaw, “See you later.”

"Later, right," Melissa mutters breathlessly, licking her lips as her hands drop to his chest and she finally opens her eyes, "Later..."

“Right,” Stiles nods and lingers still, staring into her eyes before he leans down to kiss her again, his other hand moving to her waist.

Melissa practically melts against Stiles this time, her hands grabbing the collar of his jacket as she moans weakly and kisses him back. She almost feels weak in the knees, her heart racing as she steps closer, lifting back up to try and deepen the kiss.

Stiles tugs Melissa’s body flush to his own, pulling her in by her waist as he caresses the side of her neck with his other, parting his lips and tilting his head as he walks her backwards into the kitchen.

Melissa almost breaks the kiss to warn him about the floor, but she doesn’t even care at this point, stepping backwards and keeping him close. Her hands move up, wrapping around his neck, nails scratching through his hair as she tentatively opens her mouth, a sharp, shaky breath escaping her.

Stiles flicks his tongue out experimentally, just to see if Melissa likes it as he drops his other hand down to her waist as well. When he feels her bump against the kitchen table, he reaches down and lifts her up onto it, but keeps his hands on her thighs even after she’s seated.

“Stiles,” Melissa says breathlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as she opens her mouth again, kissing him once more and brushing her own tongue out along the soft curve of his upper lip. She hasn’t felt **this** aroused… probably in her entire life, she can’t even compare it to anything else before, she almost feels drunk from it.

“If you want me to stop, I will,” Stiles tells her, his right hand pressing up under her shirt to touch her side. She’s so soft to the touch, and he’s stupidly hard just from this, but if she doesn’t want it to go so far so quick, he’d gladly stop.

“No, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Melissa mutters against Stiles’s mouth and chuckles weakly, “I don’t want you to,” she reiterates, opening her eyes to look at him as she pants, her chest heaving as she arches into his touch, “You can if you want to, but I don’t want you to.”

“I don’t want to,” Stiles admits, hand shaking as he presses up further under her shirt, thumb brushing just beneath her breast. Kissing her again, he nudges his waist closer to her groin and sucks gently on her bottom lip.

Melissa moans and reaches down, pressing her own hands up Stiles’s shirt, resting her palm against his waist, the other wrapping around him. She rocks her hips slightly, thighs tightening around him.

“Oh my God,” Stiles groans and tugs Melissa’s hips closer towards the edge, pressing forward and grinding against her as well to show her how hard he is, “This is what you do to me,” he whispers against her lips.

Melissa grins and stares up at him, her right foot brushing down, hooking around to trace the inside of Stiles’s leg, “Me?” she asks, lifting her brows, “Just me?”

“That’s entrapment,” Stiles chuckles, wiggling his fingers under the wire of Melissa’s bra to cup her breast, “But yeah, it’s usually just you.”

“Mmm, what else?” Melissa asks curiously, her hands reaching up to push his jacket off his shoulders.

“What else?” Stiles asks back, thumb brushing over her nipple, “Y-you mean like… what else turns me on?”

“Mhm,” Melissa hums, leaning up and kissing Stiles again, “What do you think about, when you think about me?”

“Oh God, it’s more like what don’t I think about,” Stiles admits, moving his hands then to lift her shirt up, “I think about… going down on you a lot, eating your pussy until you can’t take it any more. I think about catching you off guard sometimes, when I stay over, pinning you to a wall or a counter and fingering you until you come all over me. I think about a lot.”

Melissa’s eyes widen in surprise, not **completely** because of what he’s saying, but because his fantasies don't seem to have much to do with his own pleasure. Surely he must think about that as well, he probably wouldn’t tell her, even if she asked. She helps him removing her shirt before reaching out to tug off Stiles’s jacket completely, letting it fall to the ground behind him before reaching down to lift his shirt, “Anything else?” she asks as she stares up at him.

“Um,” Stiles wets his lips and raises his arms, taking his shirt and tossing it aside, “I dunno, every time I hear you in the shower, I kinda wanna join you. I think about taking you that way a lot, from behind. Or-” he lets out a tight breath, rutting against her, “I think about you riding me, the way you’d look with your head all thrown back and stuff. I’m a pretty simple guy.”

Melissa stares at him, smiling wider the more he talks and she leans in, kissing him more heatedly, her hands moving down to unbutton his pants as she shifts her hips. She’s not sure if she’s misreading him, but she’s put herself out there for lesser men, so she doesn’t mind doing it for someone like Stiles.

“Mm-okay,” Stiles hums against her mouth and reaches up with both hands, cupping her face as he kisses her back. If the way she’s reacting is anything to go by, he’d say she likes everything he’s told her so far.

Melissa chuckles, her chest arching forward, pressing her breasts to the skin just above Stiles’s pecs as she pushes his pants down. She reaches out blindly, palming the front of his boxers.

“Melissa,” Stiles breathes out, voice surprisingly husky as he ruts forward against her palm, his own hands dropping down to her chest. He fondles her over the fabric of her bra, breaking the kiss to mouth down along the side of her neck.

“Mmm,” Melissa hums, tilting her head as she presses her nails under the hem of the boxers, the tips of her fingers just brushing over the tip of his cock, “I like when you say my name,” she admits then, smiling to herself.

“I like saying your name,” Stiles says stupidly, voice an octave or two higher than it normally is. His mouth stills on her neck for a moment, trying to gather himself enough to kiss down to her collarbone, hands dropping to work on her pants.

Melissa glances down, shifting her hips to help him and then she lifts them up so he can take off her jeans, trying to be mindful of the tablecloth under her.

Stiles begrudgingly pulls back long enough to wrangle Melissa’s pants from her ankles, then he steps back in between her thighs again, hands moving around to her back to undo her bra.

“Careful, it-” Melissa starts to reach back to help him but stops when he manages to get it without much effort and she nods, smirking and reaching forward to tug down his boxers once she’s tossed aside her bra. She’s not the most self-confident person when it comes to being naked, but she resists the urge to cover herself for him.

Stiles’s mouth drops open and his gaze shifts down. He can’t not look at her when the opportunity is presenting itself. Mouth drying out, he lifts a hand to her left breast and cups it slowly, groaning at actually having the imagery with the sensation. She’s so beautiful, all he wants to do is shove his face between her breasts and make a home there.

Melissa stops when Stiles starts to touch her and her cheeks heat at the sound he makes, she glances at him, the expression on his face, and it goes to her head a little. She arches against his palm, legs wrapping around him to pull him close, “Take your time,” she says softly, smiling up at him as she puts her hands back on the table.

Stiles nods numbly, barely even registering what she’s saying, because _boobs_. More specifically, _Melissa’s boobs_. He can’t get over how good they feel in his hands, fingers softly squeezing at the flesh as his length throbs. Curling down, Stiles presses a kiss between them, then mouths at the silky flesh until he feels her nipple brushing her cheek. Turning his head, he flicks his tongue out, wanting to feel the nub before he actually takes the entirety of it in his mouth.

“Oh,” Melissa breathes out, reaching up to touch the back of Stiles’s neck, her hands shaking as she uses the other one to keep herself up. Her eyes widen, watering even, and it’s been… an embarrassingly long time since she’s had anything even remotely similar to this, the feeling is practically foreign at this point.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Stiles utters weakly, absolutely loving the way her breasts give way to his mouth. He knew she’d be beautiful all over, but actually seeing her is… breathtaking.

“I’d disagree, but…” Melissa lets out a shaky breath, staring at him, her chest tightening as she brushes her calves over his backside, “You’re… really convincing me… right now.”

“Good,” Stiles says, still unable to pull himself away from her chest, he’d probably build a shrine to her tits if he could, “That’s good, because you’re-you…” he whines lowly, brows narrowing as he pushes them together and imagines shoving his cock in between them.

Melissa chuckles at the sound, easily content at this point to let him spend the rest of the day messing around with her chest. She combs her fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs from his forehead, “I’m..?”

“Huh?” Stiles asks and looks up at Melissa with a glazed over expression, thumbs swiping across her nipples.

“Nothing,” Melissa responds, gasping and arching her back more, “Just… like I said…” she wets her lips, smiling at him, “Take your time.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles breathes out, smiling sheepishly, “I’m totally acting like some virginal little boy who’s never seen boobs before.”

Melissa lifts her brows and shakes her head, “I wasn’t kidding, or teasing you,” she curls her fingers in his hair, “I don’t mind. Do… whatever you want with them, take as long as you want.”

“Whatever I want?” Stiles asks squeakily, mind immediately going back to titty fucking her, but like he’d ever ask.

“Whatever you want,” Melissa responds and nods to show that she means it, “Whatever you want, I don’t mind.”

Stiles nudges Melissa’s inner thigh with his cock, shaking his head to himself, because he can’t, he literally cannot form the words ‘I want to titty fuck you’, so he kisses her instead.

Melissa hums and kisses him back, a little surprised, and maybe somewhat confused that her comment led him to stop touching her chest entirely, but she takes it with a grain of salt.

Stiles brushes his palms down her sides, fingertips pressing under the hem of her panties to pull them down.

Melissa shifts up, hips hiking, knees gripping Stiles’s waist as she makes enough space to allow him to get them down her hips before she settles back down once more.

Stiles is slow about removing Melissa’s panties, fingertips brushing her skin all the way down to her ankles. It’s a little overwhelming, having her lying before him like this, naked and waiting. It’d be so easy for him to just… press forward, sink himself inside of her, but he’s still hesitant because he’s afraid he’ll disappoint her.

“You okay still?” Melissa asks then, watching him, willing herself not to look down as much as she wants to, because she knows that if she does, she probably won’t be able to look away from him.

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes out shakily, gaze dropping down over her amazing body, “I’m just-” he looks back up into her eyes, furrowing his brows worriedly, “What if I’m not any good?”

“I don’t think anyone’s good when they first have sex,” Melissa chuckles and shakes her head, then she sits up and cups his cheek, “You don’t have to worry about that,” she says softly as she stares at him, “If you want, I can… I could be on top.”

“You-you would do that?” Stiles asks and swallows, pressing his cheek against her palm.

“Why not?” Melissa shrugs, leaning in to kiss him, “Just… in the living room,” she motions, “Would probably be easier.”

“Okay,” Stiles nods and steps out of his pants, kicking his shoes off so that he doesn’t trip. After he helps Melissa off the table, he takes her by the hand and leads her into the other room.

Melissa follows him silently, carefully sitting him back on the couch and climbing into his lap. It takes her a moment, once she has her knees down, to actually look at how it’s going to work. She doesn’t bother to explain that she’s only ever really had sex in the missionary position, but it shouldn’t be that much different. She sits up higher, resting her hands on his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him, “Okay?”

“Yeah, s’okay,” Stiles kisses her back, brushing her hair back from her face as he tries not to hyperventilate.

“Relax,” Melissa says softly, reaching down between them with one hand and shifting her hips, carefully pressing the head of his cock against her. It’s a little rough at first, but she’s been so turned on since they started, that she’s wet enough to slick his length. Her legs shake, tensing as she lets out a slow breath, lowering herself down in his lap.

“Oh my-” Stiles grunts, hands scrambling down to grab her by the hips, “Melissa,” he breathes tightly, hips twitching and lifting up some to press further in.

Melissa lets out a soft huff of weak laughter and reaches back up, brushing his hair back and leaning in to kiss his forehead and then his cheeks, “Give me a second,” she says as she breathes calmly, “It’s… it’s been a while.”

“No kidding,” Stiles responds, clenching his eyes shut for a moment, “Do you not even use toys? You’re so tight.”

“You mean like dildos?” Melissa raises her brows and then shakes her head, “No, never.”

“Are you joking?” Stiles asks, squeezing her hips tightly in restraint to keep from fucking up into her, “You should, you should do that-or you could just… use me, for that. I could do that,” he rambles.

“You could,” Melissa agrees and smiles slightly, resting her forearms on his shoulders as she starts to lift back up finally, legs flexing before she carefully lowers down again. It’s still a little tight so she reaches down, taking Stiles’s hand and putting it on her chest as she leans in to kiss him again.

Stiles's length throbs when Melissa makes him touch her chest, squeezing the soft mounds and moaning pitifully. Usually just thinking of her gets him off pretty quick, but actually having her on his dick is... probably going to end embarrassingly for him.

Melissa shifts her knees to get a better grip on her movements, her fingers constantly combing through Stiles’s hair as she rocks down. Each time she comes down, she winces, trying to move her hips to make it easier, to find some angle that isn’t so rough, but she’s never really done it like this before, for all she knows she could be doing it wrong.

Stiles observes the expressions flitting across Melissa's face and bites his bottom lip, contemplating. Dropping his hands back down, Stiles wraps his arms around her waist, then flips her so that she's lying on the couch, pressing atop her and shoving back in.

“Stiles,” Melissa says in surprise, eyes widening as she looks up at him. Her grip tightens in his hair as she lets out a weak huff of breath when he pushes back into her, “Are you sure?”

"Mhm," Stiles hums and curls his hips, body trembling at how good it feels.

“I don’t mind,” Melissa responds, smiling weakly as she drops her head back, her legs wrapping around him fully as she closes her eyes.

"I'm not gonna last," Stiles tells her and frowns, burying his face against her neck as he slows his thrusts, willing himself not to come.

Melissa turns and presses a soft kiss to his hair, “That’s okay,” she says sincerely, one hand reaching down to brush over Stiles’s chest.

"Do you..." Stiles's hips stutter, "Do you want me to pull out?" he asks tightly.

“No, you don’t have to,” Melissa responds, pressing another kiss to his hair, “I want you to come in me.”

"Oh my God," Stiles whimpers, thrusting hard one last time before coming inside of her, body slumping against Melissa's.

Melissa hums lowly, smiling wider and cupping the back of his neck, wrapping her other arm around him and softly ghosting her fingers over his back as her legs drop down to rest on either side of him.

"I'm sorry," Stiles breathes out and kisses Melissa's neck, keeping his face hidden.

“Sorry for what?” Melissa asks, opening her eyes and glancing down, then reaching her hand around to lift his chin, “What are you sorry for?”

Stiles presses his lips together, looking at Melissa sheepishly, "Being a stereotype, I guess."

“You’re apologizing for it being short?” Melissa chuckles and shakes her head, “Sweetheart,” she leans in and kisses him, “It normally **is**. The only thing you can really do about it is practice. And… I’m assuming you haven’t really done that.”

"It's pretty obvious, huh?" Stiles smiles tightly and kisses her back, his right hand brushing lightly against her shoulder, and then her side.

“Not really,” Melissa says, voice soft as she stares at him, “I’m just assuming because I _know_ you. I’d like to think I do.”

"Yeah, you're pretty spot on," Stiles admits, "No practice for this guy, that-this was kinda my first time."

Melissa lifts her brows, because while she had suspected he hadn’t done much, she didn’t really know that he was a virgin going in, “It… it was?” she asks, eyes widening.

"Yep," Stiles nods, "I've never had... you know, legit sex."

“I was your first?” Melissa continues, staring at him and then smiling sadly, “I shouldn’t have been your first.”

"But you are," Stiles points out, the expression on her face making his stomach twist, "Why are you giving me that look? It's fine. It was amazing, you're amazing. I'm glad it was you."

Melissa cups Stiles’s cheek and leans in to kiss him, “I just feel like your first time should be…” she shrugs, “Special.”

"You being special to me kind of makes this special," Stiles gestures to them, "Like I can't imagine my first time being with anyone else."

“You’re sweet,” Melissa says and kisses his cheek, then his jaw, “I’m not anything special, but thank you,” she hums and stretches, “As long as you’re satisfied with it, I’ll try to be happy for you.”

"But **you're** not happy about it?" Stiles asks curiously, gaze dropping down over her gorgeous body.

Melissa chuckles and watches Stiles looking over her, “I’m happy I got to be with you,” she responds, “I’m happy it happened. I don’t regret it, Stiles. But I’m-I guess I’m a traditionalist, and I always feel like people’s first times should be… less spontaneous, and more planned out. That said, if you’re happy with it, then I’m happy.”

"I'm happy," Stiles tells her then, lips curling up into a smile before he leans down and kisses her again. After persisting for so long, he'd actually given up hope that she'd ever want him. So it feels good to be right where he's at.

“Me too,” Melissa says sincerely, brushing the side of her leg against Stiles’s, “If you’re up for it, soon, maybe we could give this another run? Maybe a _few_ times before Scott gets home?”

“You even have to ask?"

**Author's Note:**

> There are also fics in the [Vault](http://cammerel.tumblr.com/Fic%20Sorter) that I may never post. And I’m even werking on an original werewolf story, so if that sounds enticing to you at all, you can always ask me about it on Tumblr or via e-mail.   
>  -Cammerel


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